Thursday, April 30, 2009

Message from Little Sheep:

She asked me to post that-

She'll be away for a bit and doesn't have internet access, but she wanted everyone to know so that nobody should worry about her.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009


life is wonderful,
life is great,
i love life,
it's me i hate.

life is beautiful,
life is fine,
it doesn't have issues,
the issues are mind.

life is amazing,
life is sweet,
for all the bad stuff,
i'll take the heat.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

almost 12 years old

it's getting closer to my bas mitzvah. soon, i'll be twelve years old. mommy gives me a book to read, all about how special a girl's body is, and how it changes as we get older. it's scary. one day, all of a sudden, i'm gonna start bleeding!

but now i know at least. i'm growing up, and it's ok that my body is changing. once a month, i'll bleed for a week. that's not so bad.

until this happens.

oh. my. god.
i'm turning into him.
my body is morphing into jack's.
i have hair.
i'm not supposed to have hair there.
oh. my. god.
i'm turning into a boy.
i'm going to grow a penis soon.
i just know it.
soon i'm going to look just like him.
oh. my. god.
how come this isn't in the book?
it must be that it's not supposed to happen.
i'm not supposed to have hair there!
what's happening to me?

where i am (response to some emails)

i haven't disappeared. i can't get to my scanner though, because of a new password thing on the regular computer, so i can't put up my new post yet. it will happen, eventually. and it ain't gonna be pretty.

Friday, April 24, 2009

positive post IV

usually, i spend my week looking for things to post and put them up as they come up, and then just schedule this post. but i didn't this week, so it's probably gonna be short. goes. this week i:

~volunteered (2X, thanks mrs. g)

~listened to my sappy happiness inducing (hopefully) tapes (thanks ;-)

~opened my mouth at the psychiatrist and stated an opinion (yay me!)

~lobby day in albany! (thanks dr. a. l.-and that's the best you can hope for!)

~had yummy ice cream

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

yated "ne'eman"

the first letter to the editor in the yated this week is a mangled version of one that i sent them. for the record, i DID NOT withhold my name. i signed it little sheep, as i always do. i am posting here my original letter, and their mangled version below it.

my original letter:

I want to commend you for having the courage to come out in the open and discuss a topic as controversial and uncomfortable as abuse and molestation in the frum communities. Please realize that as difficult as it is for you to write about it, imagine how much more difficult it is for someone like me, for whom it is a daily reality.
Nobody is quite sure when my abuse started. We assume that it went on for about five years, before I somehow mustered up the courage to tell my parents that a close relative of mine was continuously abusing me. On a steady basis, my privacy and humanity were being violated in the most horrific ways. It's been ten years since then. Ten years of therapy, of depression, of medication, of guilt. Ten years in which the mere mention of my abuser's name sets off panic attacks. Ten years of nightmares. Ten years of torture.
And the worst part, as Rabbi Lipshitz mentioned, is the shame and the silence. My very own family members know that I have some 'issues' but they think it is just me. What they don't know is that it is not me, but rather a very sick and perverted relative of theirs. What they don't know is that I suffer silently. I suffer from such a complete lack of understanding from everyone around me. I am constantly fielding shidduch calls, but people don't realize that I can't even dream about going on a date with a man. I have memories that none of my peers can understand. I have urges to do things that nobody around me can begin to imagine. I have thoughts, feelings and ideas that would make some of my friends run from me.
I believe that proper support is the first step towards healing, and therefore, I am working {together with rabbanim and therapists} to develop a network of girls from frum homes who have been abused, and are looking to heal together with me. Please email me:
Thank you for your courage, and for your support, and for giving us this voice,

Little Sheep

what the yated published:

I want to commend you for having the courage to come out in the open and discuss a topic as controversial and uncomfortable as abuse in the frum community. Please realize that as difficult as it is for you to write about it, imagine how much more difficult it is for someone like me, for whom it is a daily reality. On a steady basis, my humanity was being violated in the most horrific ways. It's been ten years since then. ten years of therapy, depression, medication, and guilt. Ten years during which the mere mention of my abusers name set off panic attacks. Ten years of nightmares. Ten years of torture.

And the worst part, as rabbi lipshutz mentioned, is the shame and silence. My very own family members know that I have some "issues", but they think it's just me.

What they don't know is that I suffer silently. I suffer from such a complete lack of understanding from everyone around me. I believe that proper support is the first step towards healing, and therefore, I am working, together with rabbanim and therapists, to develop a network of individuals from frum homes who have been abused and can look to heal together with me.

Thank you for your courage, for your support, and for giving us this voice.

(and despite the fact that i signed it as little sheep, they chose to sign me off as "name withheld")

edited to add: i just read the rest of the letters in this weeks yated. it's interesting to note that it's ok for information on how to get support for people who are in treatment or have had treatment for cancer to be published in a letter, but not for victims of sexual abuse. i'm not begrudging cancer patients their right to have support, in fact, i think that's JUST AS IMPORTANT. i do think though, that this paper is more messed up than i had thought before. as if that's possible.

i am asking you, my readers, to email this to everyone you know who reads the yated. i want MY voice heard, not what the yated feels like publishing!

albany lobby day report

ok...let's see if i can get my crazy day down here...

i got up at five fifteen this morning. i seriously have no clue HOW my father does that every day. it's not natural! it's crazy! anyway, buy ten to six i was at the bus stop waiting for my friend. we walked to the train together, and shlepped all the way into the city to meet up with the rest of the group.

on the bus, i met "mr. therapist guy" for the first time. it was pretty obvious that my friend and i were "little sheep & co" cuz we were the only single girl pair on the entire bus. in general, the talk around me was very triggering. when going to an event like this, be prepared to hear about abuse the entire time. and i mean the ENTIRE time. even on the bus.

in albany, we went into the legislative building for the press conference. it was really cool to see how diverse the crowd was. there were all different types of people there. men and women. young adults and grandparents. the range of jewish people ran from OTD to veise zoken. seriously. knitted kippot, big black yarmulkas. suit pants and torn jeans. clean shaven and long white beards. jews and christians. blacks and whites. every different type was represented. there was a lot of talk and such.

after the conference, we split into groups to go to different offices. my friend and i were in a group with a man and woman from long island, from an organization called "voice of the faithful", (they're catholic.) a couple from albany whose son was abused, i believe by a priest, but didn't say anything til thirty years later; and our group leader, a man from long island who was abused as a kid. we got the cold shoulder in some offices, but some were really nice.

anyone who lives in syracuse (if you do, or know someone who does, please pass on this info) the assemblywoman there said that the people in her area are asking her to support the weaker lopez bill, so make the voice of survivors known by calling her and saying otherwise. the markey bill can do so much more for victims, both past and future, than the lopez bill does.

after that, we went across to the capital for something or another, but my friend and i forgot out stuff in the legislative building, so we missed whatever it was.

the trip back was more endless talk. i don't mean to be rude to any of you who were there, but seriously, at some point we really need to SHUT UP!! we were all on the same side. none of us needed to be convinced. i couldn't believe how long some of them could stay on this topic without getting too triggered or mad and whatever.

i'm glad i went. it was really hard to keep saying over and over again that i was abused, and the statute is going to run out before i have time to do anything, but it was REALLY worth it. i think i gained from the experience.

if you want to know anything in specific....feel free to ask!

Sunday, April 19, 2009

bunkbed III

my big brother is so cool
he's like a dentist you know
"just pick up your hand
if you don't like it," so

as the tickle fight progresses
and i want him to stop now
i pick up my hand screaming
"STOP" as loud as i know how.

my big brother is so cruel
he's like a dentist you know.
i pick up my hand to tell him to STOP
but he continues to GO.


they're all sitting in the kitchen
right below my bedroom
when i fall off the top bunk and sprain my arm.

one, two, three, four, five sets of pounding footsteps coming up the stairs.
one slower set, cuz mommy has trouble with the stairs.
heads poking in my doorway...
i wake up from all the noise.

all my older brothers, my father, my mother
came to rescue me from my fall

why don't they come save me
every night?


trust betrayed
i've been exposed
boundaries crossed
spirits crushed from
words spoken

i'm not sure how much longer i can keep my blog up.

to all my friends, please take up where i'm leaving off!

Friday, April 17, 2009

metal spoons

when: friday night, year unknown

where: at the dining room table

we're waiting for everyone to finish washing. i'm bored, and he's sitting straight across from me. in childish innocence, i play a game. "monkey see, monkey do".

he taps his fingers.
i tap mine.

he hums a tune.
i hum back.

everyone's laughing.

he starts getting annoyed. this isn't supposed to happen! it's just a game! i'm too little to understand not to push my volatile brother too far.

he makes a face.
i make a face.

he glares at me.
i glare back.

he picks up his spoon, voicelessly threatening to throw it at me.
i pick up mine.

next thing i know, there's a twinging pain above my eye, and i have two soup spoons instead of one. touching my eyebrow, i feel a droplet of blood. not too much.

i don't understand. wasn't it just
a game?
like all the others we have

i guess i was wrong.
now i know, never get him upset.
if you do, you will regret it.

lesson learned.

can't get the words out

words what are words what are they for why write them who reads them who needs them who cares why bother try and make some sense of it how does this fit in with my life i can't think why think what's the point in doing that does it ever end thoughts are floating through my head but i can't catch them and figure out their meaning

i'm so mixed up and i can't figure out what i'm trying to say or how to say it or what i'm thinking or why i'm thinking it i forgot to email someone i was supposed to email and now if i do she won't even get it before monday so what's the point in doing it why are my thoughts such a mess what's the point in all this mush

i'm more messed up than i thought my thoughts are spinning twirling swirling and i can't straighten them out or make any sense out of them

touching me

it's not a hand that's touching me tonight. it's something else. doesn't hurt, just making me shake. it's...uncomfortable. and intrusive. it doesn't belong. i want it to go away...


"Even my friends I feel they love me but in my crazy head I don't see why." quote from growing up with child sexual abuse

this is so true. i never put it in words, but...i really don't understand it! i'm not loveable...(this is not a call for people to say they love me, it wouldn't help anyway!) it's just something i can't understand!

Thursday, April 16, 2009


pesach is over!!!!!!!!!! i'm on top of the world sorta. i lived! i made it! i didn't get myself locked up! i'm so cool!

thanks to all my friends who put up with my idiocy (you know who you are), who rescued me from insanity (i hope you know who you are too), and who didn't drop me!!

it's over, it's over, it's over, it's over, it's over, it's over!!!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

question of the day:

if i sort of unintentionally hurt myself, and that triggers me, so i hurt myself on purpose, and now i'm in pain, is the pain my fault?

oh therapy!

oh therapy, oh therapy
once every week,
get it all out,
try to just speak.
talk to a stranger bout future and past
try to explain why you're always upset

and while, you're speaking,
she takes notes so carefully...
scribbling down
every sound, every frown,
while you talk on so miserably,
scribbling down
every sound, every frown,
and hope that you leave happily!

guess the tune! winner gets a cyber-high five, where we imagine slapping five and missing!

thing number three

thing number three to do when you feel like hurting yourself...journal feelings.

what are feelings anyway? i dunno what i'm feeling. except for feeling like hurting myself. i tried everything that didn't require me to get out of my chair from the list. snapped a rubber band, didn't help, wrong sensation. tried the one friend who i thought might be up, she didn't answer. i should try sleep, but that leaves me away from the computer, and i can't check the list if i'm not by the computer, and who says it's gonna work? usually it doesn't. can't watch a movie, netflix is down, and everything is triggering me. i'm scared. it's hurting me again. i'm also so so tired. probably cuz the meds are starting to kick in. hey, that means i actually remembered my meds two nights in a row, and it's only monday! i can put that on my list of good things. if i remember. this is so not about my feelings. it's just random thoughts. who cares? it's just getting stuff out. i feel like i'm having a conversation with myself. really, i'm not. i'm having a conversation with my readers, who aren't reading this right now, but will read it, eventually. right? (no, i didn't hear an answer. THANK GOD!) (see, i do see the good sometimes) it hurts. it's touching me again. tingly prickly feeling, dunno. sorta like his hands are there. slight pressure. i wish i knew the technical term for the exact area that i'm feeling this in. it's not quite any area, that i can think of. it's just...just whatever. and it hurts. oh, i said that already. i keep feeling like i'm on the verge of tears, and then for some reason they just don't spill over. i feel like there's something wrong with me. i'm so depressed and sad and lonely and upset, and yet i can't cry. it hurts. i think i'm not even doing a good job explaining what i'm feeling. no wonder no one can figure out a way to help me. but of course, i can't do a better job cuz i have no idea what's wrong with the way i'm trying to explain myself!

this is getting really long and pointless. i'm writing too many things like this lately. it's not helping either.

slide show at the top

recently, the slide show on the top of my blog has been freaking me out a bit. i mean, i wrote it to be spooky. because i know it's true. but the last few weeks, it's really been hitting home. especially since i started my survivors forums, and i've been meeting new people through it.

from when i started my blog, i've been getting these little shocks. my first commenter (this comment was not published) was someone i knew in real life. i knew right away it was her, because i knew her blogger name, but she didn't know she was talking to me. she was abused.

then i started my survivor group blog, and another blogger emailed me. this one i didn't know in real life, just through blogging, but again...suddenly, this person whose blog i was reading suddenly turned out to guessed it, another frum girl who was abused.

in the last week (!!) i have suddenly been hit with this information twice. once a friend's friend, who i've been meeting up with in other places for the past two years, and just after yom tov, someone from my shul. neither one knew they were talking to me, until i told them my real name. it's an uncomfortable situation to be in. on the one hand, i'd like to remain little sheep to most of you. on the other hand, if you accidentally give me your identity (and i beg of you, if you don't want this to be you, make sure the email address you use doesn't have your name on it!) and it turns out that i know you, it's not so nice for me to pretend you're a total stranger!

i could be your friend, cousin, neighbor, or sister. maybe i sat next to you in school, or slept in the room next door in seminary. i might be your mother, your aunt, your teacher, or your student...

and only now am i realizing just how true these statements are.

Monday, April 13, 2009


Far away from home
cant get there on my own
creepy crawlies on my arms
up my legs they come in swarms
want to get back into bed
cannot get there, like i said


why do i feel
a hand
touching me
again and
again when
i am
the only one


Sunday, April 12, 2009

words of wisdom

from a messed up mind

~things don't get better. they get worse.

~anything is possible to the one who doesn't have to do it alone.

~falling apart sounds better every day.

~explosions are cool!

~why bother?


~angry? who's angry? i never get angry.

~pesach is the most beautiful holiday out there. that's why i love it so much.

~the harder the holiday is, the more likely it is to be a week long, involve lots of family, and have simchos fall out on it.

~i'm happy. have you ever seen me not happy?

~i really need a life.

note: some of this is sarcastic, some is not. it's up to you to figure it out. and if you can't, you don't know me.

therapist 10, take two

second session was supposed to be tonight. it was cancelled.

oh, the joys of therapy...

Saturday, April 11, 2009

can't think

i can't think straight. all i want to do is hurt myself. but really i don't want to hurt myself. i don't know what i want. i want help. but i keep pushing away those who want to help me. why am i such a mess? i want to cry. but i don't. i know if i start crying, i'll be texting my friend in two seconds flat asking how i can get the tears to stop. but i want to. my body is acting all weird. probably cuz i spent so much time hurting it today. so it hurts. everything hurts. my friend says that happiness exists, i just have to look to find it. i don't believe that it does. but i don't think she'd lie to me either. so now i dunno. i'm all mixed up. why do people have to confuse me anyway? and stop feeling sorry for me. i hate when you say that. it makes me feel like even more like a messed up freak. as if that's possible. and i dunno how to chill out, ok? i have to be on high alert, i have to know what's happening and who's coming and going and why things are happening and what causes them. i just have to. you keep saying, everyone keeps saying, that there's good to find in this holiday. if there's good, then show it to me. don't tell me to look for it, because obviously, my vision is clouded, and there's something wrong with me that i can't see it. i can't, ok? i've tried. but i don't see anything. all i see in this holiday is pain. either i'm here and he's here, or he doesn't come, and i'm a disgusting person for making his wife have all the hard work of making her own pesach, or i'm kicked out of my house, and spending yom tov hopping around to relatives i don't necesarily enjoy being with. where's the good in that? and now i'm starting to cry. a drop. no i'm not, it stopped already. good, cuz i can't handle the stupid baby tears right now. there, i found something good. see? i do try. i wish you wouldn't see me as creating drama. cuz i don't mean to. really. and if it's subconscious, there's not much i can do about it, is there? maybe subconsciously i'm really a happy wappy person and i just don't see it. and how can i chill out if i don't know how anyway? whatever. now i'm starting to cry again. i hate this stupid brain. too bad i'm stuck with it. i'm shaking. my head hurts. i should go to sleep. pop a happiness pill and just go to sleep. but if i get into bed, i know i'm going to hurt myself again. and i don't want to. but i do. now i'm just going in circles. i should shut up. i'm cold. my skin is crawling.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

why can't this stupid holiday just be over already?

are there any good, legal, easy to get, over the counter drugs that would put me to sleep for the whole thing? (without landing me in a psych ward)

stupid, stupid holiday.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009


nothing to say really, except stupid stupid day.

wish it were over already. after pesach. can't i sleep through the whole thing???

Monday, April 6, 2009

goals V

this week i will...

~eat two meals every day

this is dumb. i can't think of anything else!

Sunday, April 5, 2009

cautiously hopeful

so, here i am, two hours post meeting therapist number 10.

the days before meeting a new therapist, i'm always a mess. i hate first sessions, and it shows. all this history review and explaining why i was one diagnosed with some psycho-something or another based on some garbage i made up when i was ten. explaining why i left therapists 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9. i hate the anticipation, and i hate the actual meeting.

so considering what this meeting was all about...i'm cautiously hopeful. she seems pretty sweet, she has a sense of humor. she's goal oriented. so it might work.

except that she banned practically my entire vocabulary, starting next week. no "i dunno"s, no "whatever", and no shrugging shoulders. maybe i'll take her up on her offer of dimmed lights...

next morning

i wake up slightly disoriented. why am i in the girls' room at C's house? i have a bed at home...the house isn't that crowded! then i remember. jack.

my stomach hurts. not like a regular stomach ache though. i get nervous. running to the bathroom, i discover a little blood in my underwear. so this is what a "period" feels like. i go home crying.

i hate being a girl. i hate my body. and i never, ever, ever want to get married and have kids. never. i wish it would just go away.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

spiders IV

spiders crawling up my back,
down they go, along the track,
straight into my underwear,
how i wish they'd disappear.

along my arms, here come more,
i know what they have in store,
they want me to do their will,
until i do, they won't be still.

Friday, April 3, 2009

positive post III

this week i...

~cooked lunch for my family (one day)

~cleaned for pesach

~ate two meals (four days)

~walked around the block with my sister (thanks for the idea, rebitzen!)

~volunteered in a school (two days)

~went out for ice cream (thanks shef & *me*!)

~went out with a friend (thanks friend!)

~emailed a bunch of rabbis and therapists

~went to a shiur (thanks shef!)

~went out to eat with my mother and brother

~finished therapy with therapist #9

~got my hair done

~read a book, just because

this stupid body

i hate this stupid body,
and all it represents.
the shape, the size, the nature,
all this i resent.

i hate this stupid body,
i hate the way it feels,
the way it reacts when tickled,
with "happy," laughing squeels.

i hate this stupid body,
the memories it holds,
i hate all the sensations,
tingling hots and colds.

i hate this stupid body,
the way it shakes and quivers,
how when someone touches,
they leave me here in shivers.

i hate this stupid body,
that listens to my mind
telling me to hurt myself,
it's really so unkind.

i hate this stupid body,
and all it represents.
the shape, the size, the nature,
all this i resent.

explosion III

my therapist is nice. she's been my therapist for almost two years already. she comes to my house to pick me up, and takes me to someone else's office. it's different than hers. in her office, there are games and art supplies. this is not a kid friendly office at all. in some ways, i don't care. i'm not a kid anymore.

i sit down in the swivel chair. spinning, spinning, spinning. faster, faster, faster. answering questions while i spin. aren't you dizzy, she askes? i don't care, i answer. spinning, spinning, spinning. faster, faster, faster. when i walk out, i don't remember what we talked about.

she drops me off at home. i pack a bag, and go back to my cousin's house. i'm going to sleep there. i can't sleep in the same house as jack. i bring along my stuffed gorilla. no one my age sleeps with a stuffed animal anymore, and i'm embarrassed. but i bring it anyway. i need it to sleep. i don't even know why i like gorilla. its fur is scratchy. plus, once someone put him on top of a lamp, so some of his fur is burnt off. i'm happy when no one notices that i brought him along. i leave my stuff on the extra bed. my cousin's little daughter has to sleep on the floor because of me. it's not really so extra. if this was a regular sleepover, we wouldn't care. like this, i'm embarrassed, and she's a little resentful. she's only seven, why wouldn't she be?

in the morning, i go back home. i need to help get ready for the seder like everyone else. but i go back to my cousin every time i need a break. one time that i come over, i hear a shriek, and see something black and furry fly out the window. one of the kids saw black fur on the bed, and out of fear that it was a real animal, picked it up and threw it. it lands outside in a mud puddle. now, i don't have a stuffed animal anymore.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

explosion II

read my first explosion post first for the beginning...

i dial the number with trembling fingers. it's a good thing there's a phone practically in front of my face. i wish it were a cordless though, so i wouldn't have to stay there, right next to the bed. we don't have a cordless phone though.

my mother picks up the phone, and i start crying. at first, she's not too worried. it's not the first time i've called her upset today. earlier, there was a fight about breakfast. so she doesn't worry that i'm upset. i've always carried my bad moods for a long time, so why should today be any different? it doesn't make it good or anything, but it's life. that's why i'm still in therapy, even though the original made up issues that brought me in are long gone. when i tell her that jack was trying to take my shirt off though, i really shock her. she tells me to get out of the house, and run to my cousin CE's house.

i'm crying. he comes back upstairs. the person at the door only had to give him a package. or maybe pick one up. he looks really angry. i'm scared. i hear my mother tell me to put jack on the phone. i can barely choke out the words. "mommy wants to talk to you." and then i run out of the house.

i get to my cousin's house faster than i ever have before. her daughter is a few years older than me. i've already dried my tears. i don't want her to know that i was crying. "hi! i came to visit!" i say cheerfully. she says, "you can only come if you're going to help." i sit down on the couch with mountains of socks. green tip with green tip. white sock with white sock. i don't care. as long as i don't have to see jack.

my mother calls. she wants the details of the story. i'm embarrassed to be talking about this in the kitchen. my cousin has the sense to get her kids out of the way. i tell her the story again. she asks me questions, and i answer. she tells me that i'm going to see my therapist later, she's borrowing someone's office for an emergency session with me. her office is already closed for pesach.

that night we did bedikas chametz. our house was sparkling, my soul, my mind, my body were not.


messed up

want to

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

onword ho!

this little sheep is scheduled to start with therapist number 10 this sunday. holy !@#$